


Bones

by kungfucoffee



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Bones!AU, M/M, Nerdy Office Banter, endgame tagged relationships, nerd wonwoo and jock mingyu but grown up and lots of sexual tension, warning of blood/murder/violence etc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-13 20:42:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9141472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kungfucoffee/pseuds/kungfucoffee
Summary: Dr. Jeon Wonwoo, a forensic anthropologist who works at the Jeffersonian Institution and also writes books, has an impressive ability to read clues from victims' bones. Consequently, law enforcement calls him to assist with investigations when remains are so badly decomposed, burned or destroyed that standard identification methods are useless. Wonwoo is teamed with Special Agent Kim Mingyu, a former Army sniper, who mistrusts science and scientists when it comes to solving crimes but who has developed respect for Wonwoo, both professionally and personally.(you don't have to have watched bones to read. i have provided a quick character summary in the first chapter of the profession of each character)





	1. The Explanation in the "Work Text"

**Author's Note:**

> ayyyy turn up its the bones au fic that ive always wanted (cough needed) to write. i love bones. a lot. and i love meanie. a lot. and i love jicheol. a lot.

**BONES**

Dr. Jeon Wonwoo, a forensic anthropologist who works at the Jeffersonian Institution and also writes books, has an impressive ability to read clues from victims' bones. Consequently, law enforcement calls him to assist with investigations when remains are so badly decomposed, burned or destroyed that standard identification methods are useless. Wonwoo is teamed with Special Agent Kim Mingyu, a former Army sniper, who mistrusts science and scientists when it comes to solving crimes but who has developed respect for Wonwoo, both professionally and personally.

alternatively, a bones!alternate universe starring jeon Wonwoo, kim mingyu, and the lads at the Jeffersonian institute

**THE CAST**

Jeon Wonwoo as Dr. Temperance Brennan (head forensic anthropologist)

Kim Mingyu as Seeley Booth (Special FBI Agent)

Wen Junhui as Angela Montenegro (forensic artist)

Xu Minghao as Dr. Jack Hodgins (entomologist aka “bugs and slime guy”

Boo Seungkwan as Brennan’s Intern (an intern)

Vernon Choi as Brennan’s Other Intern (another intern)

Lee Jihoon as Dr. Camille Saroyan (head of forensic dept. at the Jeffersonian; pathologist)

Choi Seungcheol as Dr. Lance Sweets (FBI psychologist and profiler)

**THE RUNDOWN**

Because Bones is such an incredibly long TV show and each episode is one chapter of this fic, this story could potentially go on, and on, and on, and on. I haven’t decided how I want Wonwoo and Mingyu to actually end up together, or how long that will take, but once that happens (and depending on the feedback I get on this fic), I can continue writing chapters and story arcs for as long as I wish. That being said, please subscribe, give kudos, and comment your favorite Bones episodes and story arcs so that I can write them!


	2. Pilot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skeletal remains found at the bottom of a lake turn out to be those of a congressman's former aide. FBI Special Agent Kim Mingyu manages to convince Dr. Jeon Wonwoo to work with him on solving the complex and political case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so it begins!!!

“Excuse me! Coming through!” Wen Junhui groaned as he wove his way through hurried passengers, dragging their tired children and smelly luggage with them. Pushing his way past a middle-aged businessman, Junhui stopped in front of the Arrivals board. “The Arrivals board isn’t working.” Junhui spun around, hands flying up in the air. “The Arrivals board isn’t working!”

With a groan, he stalked over to the receptionist, a girl in her mid-twenties. She smacked away at her gum, acrylic nails tapping against her keyboard.

“Excuse me, your Arrivals board isn’t working.”

“To purchase a ticket, please go to the Ticketing counter. To check in your baggage, please go to the Check-In counter. To receive additional customer service, please go to the Customer Service counter,” the girl recited in a monotone voice.

“Then what is it that _you_ do,” Junhui muttered under his breath. “Excuse me!” After staring at the girl for a long moment, he lifted his shirt to reveal his incredibly toned stomach and chest. Mouth agape, the girl looked up at Junhui, who had a smirk on his face.

“The Arrivals board?”

“At least tell me you tried ‘excuse me’ first,” A deep voice rumbled playfully a few feet behind Junhui. The Chinese man turned on his heel with a huge smile, launching himself at the newcomer.

“Wonwoo!” Junhui pulled away, eyes scanning Wonwoo’s face. “How was the flight? Hell, how was _Guatemala_?”

“Genocide, mass graves, corruption,” Wonwoo smiled, albeit a bit uneasily. “I had a lot of work. I feel accomplished, though, so that must account for something.”

“Meet any hot Guatemalan guys while you were down there?” Junhui waggled his eyebrows, “Something to keep your mind off the fractured fibias and tibulas?”

“Fibulas and tibias,” Wonwoo corrected, “And hold on. I think we’re being followed.” Spinning around, Wonwoo came face to face with a tall, bulky man in a suit and sunglasses.

“Sir, why are you following us?” Wonwoo demanded, adjusting his satchel so that it was firmly on his shoulder.

“Sir, I’m going to need to look at your bag—“ the man barely got another word out as he reached for the satchel.

“Oh, I wouldn’t—“ Junhui winced, knowing what was to come. In about five seconds, Junhui’s scrawny, thin best friend had flipped the large man on his back. Almost immediately, five other men in suits emerged from the surrounding crowd, guns ready. From the floor, the man groaned.

“Mr. Jeon, I’m with Homeland Security,” the man said slowly, getting out his ID. “I’m going to need to ask you a few questions.”

“ _Doctor_. _Doctor_ Jeon.”

+

“How many times do I need to tell you?” Wonwoo reclined in his chair, glaring at the man. “I’m a forensic anthropologist at the Jeffersonian Institute. I was in Guatemala for two months identifying victims of genocide found in several mass graves.”

“I’d believe you if you had better identification that a cafeteria access pass,” the officer retorted.

“Clarinet or flute?” Wonwoo shot back, crossing his arms.

“I’m sorry?”

“Visible wear to the maxilla and mandible, suggesting long-term wind instrument use, likely with a metal mouthpiece. So. Clarinet or flute.”

“You know, Mr. Jeon,” the Homeland Security guy crossed his arms, eyebrows arched, “When a normal person gets taken into questioning by Homeland, first reaction would normally be to sweat.”

“As opposed to?”

“As opposed to going all squint on the person questioning you,” an amused voice came from the door. Both men turned around. “Hey pal.” He flashed his ID, along with a full smirk. “Special Agent Kim Mingyu, I’m with the FBI. I’m here to pick Dr. Jeon up.”

The Homeland Security officer shrugged, grabbing his jacket. “Fine with me. Take the man and his edible—“

“Uh, mandible,” Wonwoo interjected.

The officer sent Wonwoo a glare, “—his _mandible_ with you.”

“What, you’re just letting me go?” Wonwoo complained, “I’ve been telling you that I worked for the Jeffersonian for twenty minutes! My ride left!”

“I’ll give you a ride back, Jeon, let’s go,” Mingyu motioned for the door. Wonwoo scoffed, eyes pinned on Mingyu, making him squirm a bit.

“You set me up,” Wonwoo accused, pointing at Mingyu, “You totally set me up. And you,” Wonwoo turned to the Homeland Security officer, “You got a call from the FBI, for a detainment of a person matching my description.”

“All yours, Kim,” the officer clapped Mingyu on the back and left.

Mingyu took off towards the elevator, his long strides easily getting him there. Wonwoo shoved the skull back into his satchel and scrambled to follow.

“Why the hell would you do that?” Wonwoo complained, “Now Jun’s gone, and I have to call a taxi to get to the Jeffersonian.”

“Get in the car,” Mingyu yelled over from the driver’s side of his black SUV, “I’ll drive you.” Still grumbling, Wonwoo unlocked the door and climbed in, settling his bag on his knees.

“So how was Mexico?” Mingyu asked, pulling out onto the street. His eyes focused on the road ahead of him, and he nonchalantly adjusted his tie.

“Guatemala,” Wonwoo corrected, “And it was fantastic. I learned a lot and got a lot done. Quite enjoyable, really.”

“Right,” Mingyu muttered, “Mass graves. Fun.” Mingyu rolled his eyes as he turned onto the freeway on-ramp.

“Wait, Mingyu, you’re going the wrong way. The Jeffersonian is south of the airport, this freeway is going north,” Wonwoo pointed to the green freeway sign frantically. Chuckling, Mingyu reached into the bag and tossed a thick FBI file into Wonwoo’s lap.

“I never said where I was driving you, did I?”

“Pull over,” Wonwoo tossed the file at Mingyu. “I’m getting out of the car, so you can either pull over, or I can get out into mid-day D.C. freeway traffic.”

Mingyu didn’t say anything, gaping at Wonwoo. The older reached for the door handle, unbuckling and opening the car door.

“Jeon, no, no, wait!” Mingyu swerved over to pull over on the side of the freeway and reached over Wonwoo’s lap to pull the car door shut. “Why do you still refuse to help me with these cases?”

“I’ve already told you,” Wonwoo groaned, exasperated, “If I help, that means I get full involvement in the case.”

“You _do_ get full involvement in the case, as a squint!” Mingyu exclaimed, only for Wonwoo to pin another stare at him.

“I’m getting out,” Wonwoo deadpanned, unbuckling again.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Mingyu protested loudly. “Full involvement? That’s all you want?”

“You take me out into the field,” Wonwoo crossed his arms.

“Into the—“ Mingyu ran a hand through his light brown hair, “Fine. Fine! Just let the squints into the field. Why don’t we go grab you a gun while you’re at it, maybe some cuffs.”

“I do want a gun, actually, now that you mention it.”

“A gu—Bones!”

“Don’t call me Bones!”

“You’re a squint, who squints at bones,” Mingyu clapped his hands, “Hence, Bones.”

“You wanted my help,” Wonwoo reminded Mingyu as they got back on the freeway, “I’m perfectly happy to head back to the Jeffersonian and examine my Guatemalan skull.”

Mingyu glanced down at the satchel in Wonwoo’s lap. “Right.”

+

“Kim, can you tell me why we’re on a raft?” Wonwoo crossed his arms as Mingyu carefully held out the wire that connected the underwater camera to their screen onboard.

“They found the body somewhere here,” Mingyu shrugged, “But knowing you, I figured you’d want to look at all the sludge and mud and rocks around it before taking the body out.”

“It’s more like collecting samples for evidence, Agent Kim,” Vernon, one of Wonwoo’s interns, piped up from where he was carefully taking notes of their exact location.

“Alright, squints, do your, uh, squinting,” Mingyu wiggled the wire around a bit.

“What exactly am I supposed to be squinting for?” Wonwoo asked, peering closely at the screen.

“It’s kind of like pornography,” Mingyu commented, low in his voice as he shifted a bit closer to Wonwoo, glancing at the screen as well, “You’ll know it when you see it.”

“I don’t know how comfortable I am with seeing this,” Vernon commented under his breath. Something on the screen made him straighten up. “Oh, stop the raft. I think I may have caught glimpse of some phalanges sticking out from under that plastic netting.”

“You’re right, Mr. Choi,” Wonwoo grabbed Mingyu’s forearm forcefully and shoved it in the direction of the toe bones. “Very impressive.”

“I do pump the ol’ iron occasionally,” Mingyu grinned over at Wonwoo, who stared back.

“I was commenting on Mr. Choi’s observation, Kim, not the state of your muscular build.”

“Oh.”

Once the body had been raised by the FBI unit and set on the bank of the lake, Wonwoo and Vernon got to work.

“What, you’re not gonna take the body back to your squint lab?” Mingyu gestured to the bones, “What the hell are you going to figure out from a pile of wet bones?” Vernon lowered his bulky camera to level Mingyu with an arched brow and a glare.

“You’d be surprised, Agent.”

Wonwoo chuckled slightly, “Take pictures of just the current state of the victim, or at least, what’s left of it. High rate of decomp, I can ask Minghao about that. And collect samples from the water around the body.” Wonwoo knelt down next to the body, tilting his head, “Victim appears to be female, possibly African descent, 18 to 23 years old, and a tennis player.”

“A tennis player?” Mingyu scoffed, “No way.”

“Are you questioning my credibility, Agent Kim?” Wonwoo asked with a raised brow. “I _am_ the one with a doctorate.”

“Right.” Mingyu rolled his eyes and waved his hand in the general direction of the body. “Carry on.”

“I’m done, Agent Kim,” Wonwoo rose to his feet again and patted Mingyu on the back, “I want all this shipped back to the Jeffersonian.”   
  
+

“So I was going through those samples from the silt that Vernon collected,” Minghao began, pulling a computer screen towards him, showing the results to the team. Wonwoo, Vernon and Junhui peered at the screen. “Based on the nutrient levels in the silt and the evidence I found in the bug life, the body was in that pond two summers and a winter.”

“Spring before last?” Wonwoo checked, marking something on the case file.

“Yup,” Minghao nodded, “Also, check this out. I also uncovered some small bone fragments in the silt, probably frog bones. There were also some tiny gold links. I’d guess, probably from some sort of jewelry.”

“The victim was holding something in her hand,” Vernon commented, “Minghao, did you get anything from that?”

“I haven’t fully examined it, but first look, I’d say cellulose,” Minghao responded.

“Paper?” Junhui asked, forehead creasing.

“That’s my guess.”

“Vernon, clean off the bones so that we can conduct a more thorough investigation,” Wonwoo began in his brisk manner, “Minghao, swab the entry wounds for any particulates. I’ll take the skull fragments and do a reconstruction so that Jun can get us a facial reconstruction.”

“I’m on it, captain,” Vernon saluted Wonwoo.

“Oh, and Vernon,” Wonwoo paused, lifting the tray of skull fragments, “Where is Seungkwan? He should help you with cleaning off the bones.”

“He’s with Jihoon, running the tissue samples through the tox screen,” Vernon responded, “Jihoon told me to remind you that Seungkwan is a general intern at our lab, and I’m the one who should be assisting with the bone work.”

Wonwoo frowned, “I fail to see how putting tissues into a machine requires an assistant, but very well. Tell Jihoon I hear his message loud and clear.”

A few minutes later, Vernon found himself sitting in front of a huge, transparent vat. The bones of the victim lay inside, and it was filled with boiling, slightly bleached water. Vernon tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for the bones to be completely cleaned.

“Hey, nerd boy,” Seungkwan knocked on the door to the lab room that Vernon was occupying. He clutched a report in one hand, and a steaming mug in the other.

“Seungkwan, if I’m a nerd, what the hell does that make you?” Vernon teased, gratefully accepting the mug of coffee. “You know me so well.” Seungkwan smiled.

“How are the bones coming?” Seungkwan tip-toed, peering into the container.

“I think they’ll be done in two or three minutes,” Vernon grinned, “Dr. Jeon will be pleased.”

“You want me to stay and help you pull the bones?” Seungkwan asked, poking Vernon’s side teasingly.

“Nah,” Vernon shook his head, light brown hair falling into his eyes, “You should probably get that report to Dr. Jeon, though.”

“Will do,” Seungkwan bounced out of the lab, stopping at the door, “Pancakes at the Royal Diner after work?”

“You know it,” Vernon smiled toothily back at Seungkwan.

He turned back to the vat of bones, grabbing the tongs to start pulling the cleaned bones out of the solution, humming a little tune under his breath.

“You’re unusually happy,” Minghao observed as Vernon pushed a cart with the bones on them back onto the platform where most of the examination equipment was. Minghao was using one of the large microscopes to examine particulates from the silt.

“Yeah, Seungkwan and I are getting food at the Royal Diner after work,” Vernon nodded happily. Minghao was reminded of an overexcited puppy.

“Right,” he said dryly, watching Vernon carefully set the bones on an examination table. “And you’re happy because…?”

Vernon paused in his work. “Mm… no reason.” Vernon shrugged, going back to work, “Yeah, no reason. Just excited to be on a case, I guess.”

“Right,” Minghao repeated, taking his petri dish, “Okay, I’m heading back to my lab, where the small little critters _don’t_ have angsty teenage love issues.”

“’Kay, see ya!” Vernon chirped happily after Minghao, “Hold on, wait a sec! I’m not angsty!”

+

“Oh my lord, look at that!” Mingyu exclaimed excitedly, drinking in the 3D, holographic image that Junhui had conjured up.

“Patent pending,” Junhui quipped with a smirk, plugging a few numbers in, “Now, I scanned the skull and inputted the facial tissue markers. There should be enough to do a facial reconstruction.”

Junhui tapped away, and soon, a tall African-American young woman stood in the image. Mingyu gaped at the projection, and turned to face Wonwoo in disbelief. Wonwoo, however, was peering at the skull, frowning.

“Junhui, can you substitute the racial variables as Caucasian instead of African-American?” Wonwoo asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Yeah, sure,” Junhui tapped away, and the image melted into a completely new one. Wonwoo squinted his eyes. Next to him, Mingyu snickered.

“I think I recognize her,” Wonwoo muttered under his breath, “Okay, now can you split the race? Half African-American, half Caucasian.”

“Yeah,” Junhui nodded, typing something in for a third time. As the image rendered, Mingyu felt his breath catch in his throat.

“Holy shit, isn’t that the girl who disappeared two years ago?” Seungkwan asked excitedly from the door, peering in, “The one who was fucking the senator?”

Mingyu’s jaw clenched. “Cleo Eller. Daughter to Ted and Sharon Eller, last seen approximately 9:00 pm, Thursday April 2010.”

“Wow, good memory,” Junhui clicked his tongue, obviously impressed.

“Yeah, well, I was second in command on the Eller case,” Mingyu sighed, eyes never leaving the victim’s holographic face, “We’ve been looking for her for two years now, and I’m not sure that this was how I wanted to find her.”

“Is that Cleo Eller?” Minghao asked from the door, pushing past Seungkwan to make his way in. He held a report file in one hand. “She was totally killed by the senator, those lying rat bastards who use their power to cover things up.”

“Dr. Xu,” Jihoon raised an eyebrow. He’d been quietly observing the reconstruction, waiting as the tox screens went through their final tests. “Language, please. And also, why are you here?”

“I found particulates from rolled steel,” Minghao said proudly, lifting up a petri dish, “Probably from a sledgehammer. I also found cement and diatomaceous earth.”

“Diabolical what-a-what?” Mingyu wrinkled his nose in confusion.

“Diatomaceous earth,” Minghao repeated impatiently, “Commonly used as an insecticide, filtering agent and cleaning abrasive.”

“Well, evidence is evidence,” Mingyu patted Minghao on the back. Turning to Wonwoo, a grim look spread across his face, “The case was so messy, evidence pointing this way and that. Cleo Eller was rumored to be sleeping with the senator she was interning for, but her boyfriend was pretty adamant that they weren’t. The two, the boyfriend and the victim, were the senator’s intern. Cleo handled paperwork, the boyfriend did his scheduling.”

“I can’t wait to bust some senator’s ass,” Minghao grinned, “They think that just because they’re some hotshot, they can get away with murder.”

“Dr. Xu, keep it to yourself, please,” Jihoon sighed.

“You wanted to be out in the field?” Mingyu rearranged his face to something more pleasant, “Here’s your big chance, I’m going to talk to the Eller family and tell them what happened.”

“Really?” Wonwoo nodded, “Great, I’ll follow. Are we going to go broil some senators afterwards?”

“Wha-broil?” Mingyu raised an eyebrow at Wonwoo, “Bones, there will be no _broiling_ of senators.”

“Grill, sweetie,” Junhui chuckled, “I think you mean grill some senators.”

“Oh,” Wonwoo shrugged, “Well, are we doing that?”

“No, no, there will be no grilling of senators either!” Mingyu groaned, “All we’re doing is going to the Eller family and informing them of their daughter’s death.”

“Yeah, uh, empathy and Dr. Jeon,” Jihoon shook his head, “Not a great combination, Kim.”

“Just let me do the talking, alright?”

+

“Your daughter sustained severe blunt-force trauma to the ribs and skull; so severe, in fact, that her skull was shattered.”

“Bones!” Mingyu groaned, burying his head in his hands.

“Oh my god,” Mrs. Eller sobbed, burying her face in her husband’s chest, “My poor baby.”

“It was that senator, wasn’t it?” Mr. Eller said quietly to Mingyu. “Please. We’ve been losing hope for two whole years now. Just catch the person who did this to my Cleo.”

“Mr. Eller, you know we can’t disclose any information pertaining to the case,” Mingyu said gently.

“Please.” Mr. Eller pleaded, “One military man to another.”

Mingyu sighed, getting up. “As soon as I find out anything, I’ll let you know.”

“Thank you,” Mr. Eller nodded, showing them to the door.

When the two had gotten into the car and had started on the road, Mingyu turned to Wonwoo, obviously frustrated.

“What the hell is your problem?” He exploded, throwing his hands up, “Why in God’s name would you think that it’s okay to tell the grieving parents of a girl who’s been gone for _two years_ that her skull was shattered?”

“It’s the truth, Kim,” Wonwoo said icily, “And if they’ve been in the dark for two years, they deserve the truth.”

“No!” Mingyu exclaimed, “They _deserve_ happiness, and they won’t get that by thinking about their daughter’s shattered skull every waking minute.”

“Then why aren’t you going to interview the senator?” Wonwoo asked, arms folded, “Seems to me like that would get the Eller family happiness.”

“You know what?” Mingyu let out a huge puff of air, “Fine. We’re going to talk with Senator Bethlehem.” Mingyu turned the steering wheel sharply so that they were headed back to downtown D.C.

“You mean we’re going to _broil_ Senator Bethlehem,” Wonwoo remarked, flipping through the case file. As he did so, his cell phone started to ring. “Jeon,” he answered curtly.

“Hey Wonwoo, it’s Jihoon,” Jihoon said on the other side of the phone, “Tox screen reports came back. Cleo Eller was anxious, depressed and nauseous. I found traces of Lorazepam, antidepressants and Diclegis.”

Wonwoo hummed, staring out of the window at the looming capitol building. A crease formed between his eyebrows. Mingyu recognized that look—it was the look Wonwoo got when his mind was going 100 miles a minute.

“Well Bones, you asked for it,” Mingyu hastily parked the car, “Let’s go, shall we?”

Wonwoo traded a grin with Mingyu, and the two headed inside.

“Senator Bethlehem!” Mingyu jogged up to the man, dressed in a crisp black suit. A young man stood next to him, tablet in hand. “FBI, Special Agent Kim Mingyu. I have a couple questions regarding the Cleo Eller case.”

Senator Bethlehem turned to him with a smirk, “Son, I know you’re hung up on the past, but that girl’s case was closed a year ago. Give it up.”

“We’re no longer investigating it as a missing person’s case,” Mingyu said quietly, staring Bethlehem straight in the ear.

“Cleo Eller was murdered,” Wonwoo cut in, “And at the time that she was murdered, she was six weeks pregnant.”

“Wha—pregnant? Bones!” Mingyu hissed.

“We found traces of nausea medication, the only type on the market that is usable for women who are pregnant,” Wonwoo began, tilting his head, “In addition, we found very small bones with Cleo Eller’s body. Fetal bones.” Wonwoo stepped closer to the senator, ”But you know what else we found? DNA. Under Cleo’s fingernails.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not really sure who exactly you are, but I do know that in order to get a DNA sample, you need a warrant,” Senator Bethlehem’s assistant, Ken Thompson stepped it, “And I’m guessing that with the evidence you’ve named, you don’t really have that warrant.”

Wonwoo narrowed his eyes. Mingyu was just about to get Wonwoo to walk away when Wonwoo turned back to Ken Thompson.

“When did you break your jaw?” Wonwoo demanded, eyes pinning Ken Thompson down.

“You don’t have to answer that,” Bethlehem cut in, putting a hand on Ken’s shoulder.

“It’s fine, I have nothing to worry about,” Ken smirked at Wonwoo, “About two months ago. I was playing golf with a few buddies, and a club went flying. No biggie.”

“And it still hasn’t fully healed?” Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, “Osteogenesis imperfect, right?”

“Y-yes,” Ken stammered, “How the hell did you know?”

Wonwoo sent the intern scowl, “The bones never lie.” Turning around, he motioned for Mingyu to hurry. As soon as they were outside, Wonwoo turned to Mingyu.

“I need you to get me to Ken Thompson’s house _now_.” Wonwoo yelled loudly, throwing himself into the passenger seat, “It was him, I know it!”

“Woah, woah, Bones,” Mingyu tried to soothe Wonwoo, “We don’t have any evidence, we need a warrant! Relax, we have time.”

“No, we don’t!” Wonwoo pointed out the window. Ken Thompson was racing down the steps of the building, cell phone to his ear, “He knows that I know. He has osteogenesis imperfecta, a genetic bone disease that makes your bones more brittle. That’s why Minghao thought the fetal bones were frog bones; frog bones are more brittle than human bones are.”

“The baby had the disease,” Mingyu gaped, the realization hitting him.

“So the baby was Ken Thompson’s,” Wonwoo finished triumphantly, “He killed Cleo Eller, Mingyu, and he’s probably on his way back home to destroy and evidence of it!”

“I still can’t get around the warrant part of it, Bones!” Mingyu groaned, frustrated.

“You can’t, but I can,” Wonwoo yelled, “I’m not a federal investigator, I don’t carry around a shiny badge, I’m just some squinty doctor who stuck his nose too far.”

Mingyu held Wonwoo’s gaze for a moment. After a huge gulp of air, he jerked the car out of its parking space and into traffic, siren on full blast.

“Check the glove compartment,” Mingyu yelled over the siren, “There should be a gun in there. You know how to shoot?”

“Yes, Mingyu, I know how to shoot,” Wonwoo retorted impatiently.

“Good, because we’re here,” Mingyu screeched to a stop. Wonwoo leaped out. “Bones!”

Wonwoo looked back, eyebrow raised.

“Be careful in there.”

+

“Ken Thompson!” Wonwoo yelled loudly. The back door was wide open, keys hastily strewn on the floor. Wonwoo flicked the safety off of his gun, clutching it in both hands. “Ken Thompson, I know you’re here!”

Wonwoo heard a loud bang from underneath him, and he scrambled for the stairs that lead to the basement.

Ken Thompson stood in the middle of three huge aquariums, filled with tropical fish. He held a large gasoline container, and was pouring it all over the cement ground.

“Look at that,” Ken Thompson snickered, pouring the last of the gasoline onto the ground with a flourish, “Little nerd boy finally caught up to me.”

Wonwoo lifted the gun with his right hand. His left hand fumbled in his pocket, hastily getting the camera app up and the video recorder going in his pocket. If he didn’t have an audio recorder, his iPhone’s video would have to work.

“It was you,” Wonwoo said firmly, “You knew that Cleo was pregnant, but you couldn’t afford to have your career ruined like that, so you took her down to the basement, pushed her to the floor and slammed in her head with a sledgehammer.” With a quick look around the room, Wonwoo pointed to a pile of tools, “ _That_ sledgehammer.”

“That bitch had it coming,” Ken Thompson grinned wildly, “She wanted me to marry her, let her have the kid and her job. But it’s all over now.” He pulled a lighter out of his pocket, flicking it on. “Pretty soon, all the evidence will be gone, along with you and I.”

“BONES!”

A lot of things happened at once. First, Wonwoo fired, and shot Ken Thompson in the leg.

Ken Thompson squealed, a sound akin to a pig being slaughtered, and writhed on the floor.

He dropped the lighter, still lit. The gasoline went up in flames, licking at anything near it.

Mingyu fired at the tropical fish tanks, and gallons of water flooded the basement. He dashed down the stairs and grabbed Wonwoo, checking to make sure that the elder was okay.

+

“You’re sure that you’re alright?” Mingyu asked over his cup of coffee. Mingyu and Wonwoo had joined the others at the Royal Diner (Seungkwan wouldn’t stop complaining to Jihoon about how they’d “ _interrupted his one chance at a date!!!_ ”).

“Yes, Mingyu,” Wonwoo rolled his eyes impatiently, “I’m completely fine.”

“That was really exciting,” Vernon grinned, “A cool change from the thousand-old bones we normally work on.”

“And I actually had a _job_ ,” Jihoon drawled.

“How did you even end up at the Jeffersonian?” Mingyu asked after taking a sip of his coffee.”

Jihoon grinned and shrugged, “You’re right, I used to work as the head coroner in New York, but I do work on tissue samples here. Working with flesh—fresh flesh—is a nice change.”

“Right,” Junhui shuddered, “I’m just gonna pretend like you never said that.”

The table erupted in laughter.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” Wonwoo interrupted the laughter, “Obviously, I am one of the best forensic anthropologists in the world. We are one of the best teams in the world. After this case, I am beginning to think that maybe our skills would better serve the world like this—catching criminals and ensuring justice.”

“Wait, Bones, don’t get my hopes up,” Mingyu looked over at Wonwoo with wide eyes.

Wonwoo and Jihoon traded looks.

“I think what Wonwoo is saying,” Jihoon, as the head of the Medico-Legal Lab, piped in, “We should extend the Jeffersonian-FBI partnership to a more permanent basis.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /background music faces to “It’s Time” by Imagine Dragons”/

**Author's Note:**

> pls show a lot of love and hmu on twitter @svtsweatpants


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